


We Hate Damianos Akielos

by queenegeria (bumblegremlin)



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Lovers, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-19 04:36:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22871947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bumblegremlin/pseuds/queenegeria
Summary: No one could fault a young boy for being loyal to his brother. Which was why when Auguste leaned down to him one day and whispered very seriously, “We hate Damianos Akielos,” Laurent gained purpose in his life.He was going to hate Damianos Akielos very, very much.
Relationships: Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 73





	We Hate Damianos Akielos

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy this fic, based on the nonsensical idea I had running through my head two years ago.
> 
> Featuring Damen and Laurent, in which Laurent's hatred of Damen is completely one-sided and Damen has no clue it's even happening.

Laurent was often described as an idolizing little brother, and there was no point trying to deny it. Ever since he could walk, he had been adoringly trailing at Auguste’s heels, showing off, basking in the attention. Their parents called them conjoined twins, and they weren’t far from the truth. Wherever Laurent was Auguste was, and vice versa; each of them was as dedicated to his brother’s happiness as the other.

It wasn’t something that he could hide: the proof was right there. Was he always with his brother? Yes. Could he see flaws? Never. Was Auguste’s word always right? Of course. 

No one could fault a young boy for being loyal to his brother. Which was why when Auguste leaned down to him one day and whispered very seriously, “We hate Damianos Akielos,” Laurent gained purpose in his life. 

He was going to hate Damianos Akielos very, very much.

***

By the time Laurent was fourteen years old, he had not met Damen more than five times in passing, but he knew without a doubt that he was his enemy. How could he not be? Ever since he was seven years old, at least once a month Auguste would explain how he had been skipped over for whatever reason, and he would look at Laurent and say “and this is why we hate Damianos Akielos.”

Laurent wasn’t exactly sure what Damen had done each time, but it didn’t matter. Auguste was hurting and it was Damen’s fault. 

He had his theories. When he was eight, he was ninety percent sure that Damen was simply bullying Auguste. But, no. Auguste was too strong to be beaten by some young tyrant. If Auguste hated, and really hated someone, they had to be  _ evil.  _ Damen probably blackmailed him and said he’d kill their dog if Auguste didn’t drop out of the race to be valedictorian in 8th grade. And when Damen became the captain of the wrestling team, it was surely because he’d prevented Auguste from joining and claiming the position for himself. He obviously would have, given the opportunity. Auguste was already captain of the football team, what was stopping him from extending that to the wrestling world? Damen couldn’t let that happen.

Laurent’s only regret was that when he made it to high school the following September, Auguste and Damen would be moving on to college. He would not be able to fulfill his fantasies of a glorious public evisceration. 

When Auguste came home from football practice with a bruised leg, Laurent seethed. He listened at the dinner table as his brother launched into an explanation of his injury, which covered his calf in mottled black and blue. He tripped at practice, he said, and ended up at the bottom of a body pile, where someone had trampled him while trying to get back up. It was a shame, mentioned their father. It would take time to heal, and he would probably miss the opening game of the season.

“And I’m guessing Damianos is to blame for this?” Laurent said mildly, spearing one of his green beans.

“Oh, yeah,” Auguste agreed. “It’s one hundred percent his fault. What a jerk.”

The conversation went in another direction from there, but Laurent stewed in silent anger until he was excused.

Auguste missed the opening game. Damianos Akielos stood in as acting captain, and was praised left and right for winning their first game of the season.

_ One day,  _ Laurent thought.  _ One day.  _

***

In Damen and Auguste’s final year of school together, Laurent only saw his brother’s arch nemesis a handful of times. Once when the football team participated in a local carwashing fundraiser. Laurent sat in the backseat of his mother’s car when they went to support his brother and his jock friends while they wandered around shirtless in a parking lot, covered in suds and carrying hoses. When it was their turn, it wasn’t Auguste who served them, or any of his more palatable teammates, in fact. It was Damen who strolled up to the driver's side window, his tan skin glistening in the sun while others undoubtedly burned. 

Laurent crossed his arms and waited impatiently as Damen charmed his mother, complimenting her paint job of all things and shooting the breeze. A small part of Laurent hoped that he would scratch the paint and make his mother see him for what he really was. But no, Laurent had to endure him plastering himself across the hood of their car as he waxed the windows in strong strokes. In the end, his mother made a comment about how he washed the car better than Auguste ever had and handed over twice the amount of cash that had been charged. 

And so Damianos won another round.

The next time was when Damen came to pick Auguste up for a party. Laurent opened the door. A voice in his head that sounded like his mother told him to ask the older boy to come in, but Laurent, who would sooner eat a spoon than let Damianos Akielos into his home, kept him cornered at the front door until Auguste came downstairs. His brother came home home from the party at three am and spent the rest of the night puking loudly in the toilet between their bedrooms. Laurent held his hair back and listened as Auguste lifted his head long enough to say the fated words before being sick again. Laurent swore revenge.

After that was graduation. Auguste wasn’t made Valedictorian, but to Laurent’s enthusiasm, neither was Damen. That honour went to some girl on student council, who prattled on about the importance of friendship, and the future. Pictures were taken, awards were given out, and Laurent’s childless aunt Vannes gave his parents parenting advice, including a prescription of two bottles of red wine.

When the diploma ceremony began, Laurent felt off balance. Auguste walking across the stage in his gown forced him to contemplate the fact that his brother wouldn’t be at home next year. He would in university, only home on occasional weekends. Laurent had thought he was okay with that, but a part of him wanted to clutch at his older brother’s arm and make him stay.

When Damianos Akielos took hold of his diploma, a different feeling cut him to his core. This marked the end of his proximity to Auguste. Wherever he went from here, it would have nothing to do with his brother or their family. Laurent pondered the lack of a final showdown between the two of them, but he could see the end of an era for what it was.

He would not see Damianos Akielos again. 


End file.
